(no subject)
-I remember nothing of the streets. Grey, yellow lines, lights.
-Basic image of a road: yellow lines and lights?
-I see nothing, and it's good. The sky is recalled as photographs, a thousand froze in order: the past into the future and then back again, all occupying that space between thought and expression. Today's idea of the sky, not ready yet, but soon. There it is, void of conscience, though deep as purple on a morning in October.
-You sleep in until noon, like, "No sweat--where is pocket book?"
-No! We must go. These brusies on my legs are enough.
-No, it's a must! Farewell! A vivid caricature of a lawn worker. That is, an old woman wearing a bonnet; the sleeve of a book, born before the '90s, the typical Scandinavian fair.
-Basic image of a road: yellow lines and lights?
-I see nothing, and it's good. The sky is recalled as photographs, a thousand froze in order: the past into the future and then back again, all occupying that space between thought and expression. Today's idea of the sky, not ready yet, but soon. There it is, void of conscience, though deep as purple on a morning in October.
-You sleep in until noon, like, "No sweat--where is pocket book?"
-No! We must go. These brusies on my legs are enough.
-No, it's a must! Farewell! A vivid caricature of a lawn worker. That is, an old woman wearing a bonnet; the sleeve of a book, born before the '90s, the typical Scandinavian fair.